Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Life's Lessons ❯ Life's Lessons ( One-Shot )

Life's Lessons

There are always things better left unsaid, a lot of things actually. My father, Son Goku, taught me that. There were times when we were together for hours without ever saying a word. When we did talk it was about what we would like for supper or how my studies were going. We never discussed our problems because we never had any; there were just solutions.

Mother talked a lot about anything at all. Sometimes she talked too much. It wasn't a problem because dad had a solution. Almost every evening, while mother was cooking supper, father would take me out to the woods and show me something. He taught me about the importance of solitude and of friends. I learned how to really listen and how to pretend. Most importantly I learned that family is everything.

Father would die to protect us. I knew that before he actually did it, sacrificing his life to protect me and his friends. He showed me that in the time we spent alone, too. He loved mother and me. Mother took care of us and he would take care of her. I helped. I studied, and father told me that helped all three of us more than I knew. I was happy to be useful, and I decided that I, too, would die to protect my family.

When I told father my decision he said he was very proud of me and I knew he would be, but that isn't why I told him. I told him because I thought he should know that I loved him that much. I told him I would do anything for him, and I meant it. We always meant everything we said. That was very important.

I learned something else important. It isn't healthy to let something eat at you and eat at you. It's like a worm eating an apple. The apple loses part of itself and the rest becomes mushy and useless if you let it go. Dad taught me that as well. He used himself as the example, and, never telling me the problem because we never had problems, asked for me to help him so he wouldn't be like the apple.

Do you want to know why I keep saying my family never has any problems? We never have problems because there is nothing we can't do together. Something is only a problem if there is no ready solution, and father always had plenty of solutions for everything.

Father said there were some things men needed. He told me I wasn't old enough yet to need it, but when I was he would give it to me. However, he did require it, and I could give it to him.

At first, I think he was afraid he'd hurt me. His fingers were whisper soft over my cheeks and hair as he guided my head to his engorged shaft. They tickled the back of my neck as he coaxed me to take him further into my mouth. His sex was hot against my lips, and with my tongue I could feel the blood pumping through it. It was like a great iron rod that I had to work at.

He warned me that first time so I wouldn't choke. His semen was slick, like mucus, and it slid easily down my throat to land in my stomach. His large hand gently cupped the back of my head. I remember the feel of his heat seeping through my hair and into my scalp. I was warm all over.

After that first time his touches became firmer, and while they never hurt me, they were also never quite administered with the same tender care. Sometimes he would sit on the ground like he did the first time, and I would crawl between his legs and take him into my mouth, and sometimes he would lie down and I'd kneel beside him as my tongue worked his orgasm out. And there were still other times when he would be standing and I would be on my knees before him. During those times he would hold my head between his hands and all I had to do was keep my teeth from scraping against him as he thrust into me.

If he took my mouth while he stood then I always knew what to expect afterwards. When I finished swallowing he would sit and draw me down into his lap and fondle my smaller member, rolling it a little between his palms and massaging my sac. He would rock against me as he played with me, his sex sliding along my cleft as if it were a single track and that shaft was meant to be there.

Each time he rubbed against me it seemed he was waiting for something. His shaft would slide against me, up and down, until he moved too far and it slid under me, derailed, to rest against my sac. That signaled the end and he would push me up, following moments later to dress himself. There was only one time when he didn't move too far so that he slipped beneath me. That time his movements were tight as he flexed his hips beneath me, and they were faster. When they lost their control I felt wet warmth ooze down my back and funneled between my cheeks. It was the only time because I knew what father was waiting for then, and I vowed to give it to him.

The next time he sat and moved to draw me onto his lap I twisted in his arms so that my shoulder was against him instead of my back. I pushed against him and his arms loosened around me enough for me to turn to face him. I put my arms up, my hands meeting behind his neck and he pulled me up and close to him so that my arms crossed around and behind his neck, and my chin rested against his shoulder. When he lowered me to his lap again I slid a leg to either side of his waist and kept my hands clasped behind his neck.

As his sex butted against me I saw his eyes widen, scant inches from my own, and I clasped my legs around him in response. I wriggled against him and knew he understood as an arm carefully crushed me to his chest and I felt his fingers at my opening. His nose nuzzled my ear and his hair was soft against my cheek before he lifted his head and his fingers disappeared.

When I felt them against me once more they were wet and one probed into me, thick and stinging as it forced its' way inside. It wasn't so bad a few moments later as I adjusted, but the relief was short-lived. Father's finger slid out and then two pressed into me, my muscles stretching beyond stinging to pain.

My arms tightened around father as he moved those digits inside me. They hurt and I felt fear creep over me so that I thought I didn't want to allow him inside me anymore. Fast on the heels of that thought came shame as I remembered everything he had done for me. I could feel a red blush flow into my face as I grew angry with myself. When father removed his fingers and I felt the flesh covered iron of his shaft press against me, I forced my body down.

I could feel my flesh tear as his length was forced inside me. The world went white in a blinding flash of pain and I heard my own whimper even as father groaned in pleasure. I felt tears on my face and trapped beneath my eyelids, and I wanted to wipe them away but I had to bite back another whimper instead. I pushed my face into my father's chest and gritted my teeth as his shaft was forced into me all over again.

After several thrusts the pain dulled and I could feel his sex sliding easily into me. It wasn't so bad then. The pain could only hold my attention for so long before I began to notice other things - like father's arms secure around me, his voice as he whispered nonsensical reassurance into my hair, and his sex moving inside me to coax the heat of pain into a pleasant and pervasive warmth.

It felt so good.

Every time I opened myself to him thereafter, his heat and love warmed me that much more. It was a glorious sensation and we basked in it together as it soaked into our very bones.

Father kept his promise.

One evening his length was pushing into me as he held my own hard sex in his fist, and after the normal clear liquid came out and glistened upon the head, but before father filled me with his own liquid, there was a soft splattering against my stomach that left a milky trail where it slid down my skin.

Not even my amazement could penetrate the pleasure I felt during that orgasm. Sometimes, when I'm missing father very badly, I'll remember that time and relive it in my mind. I'll remember the feel of his hand, warm and moist with sweat around my member, and the confusion I felt when he pulled out of me before his completion. But mostly I'll remember the feel of his muscles beneath me after he lay down and guided me to his entrance. I could feel them shifting and flexing as I readied myself to thrust inside. I loved the way they clamped down around my shaft and coaxed everything out of me until I didn't care if there was anything left.

I could have laid in his arms forever and listened to the lyrical litany of his words and the melody of his voice as it rose and fell. I could have, but I'm glad I didn't. There were so many other moments we shared together that I would have missed if we'd stayed like that. Every time after, for example.

There is nothing quite like the feeling of parting powerful thighs and thrusting home between them. Nor is there anything quite like spreading your own and inviting someone you love into your own tight passage. It's ecstasy. For now you'll have to trust me on both those counts.

I'm so glad you were born, Chibi. Now I have someone else to love and protect. I'll teach you everything father taught me, I swear it.

When you're old enough we'll go out before supper and I'll talk to you and show you things. I'll take you to those pleasurable heights and make you so dizzy you'll neither know nor care which way is up or down. Everything I learned from father you will learn from me, and you will be my solution. I promise you'll love it, just as I did.

But you're not even out of diapers yet. It'll be several years before you'll understand…I would die for you, Chibi. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you, and when you need me, I'll be right here by your side. You'll learn.